Old news. We've known for years. But Kathryn Shultz's "The Really Big One," which appeared in the New Yorker last week, is a hair-raising reminder.

We need to prepare. As individuals and collectively.

You can learn a lot about preparation at Ready.gov. You can also contact your elected representatives. You can also get emergency training at many local fire departments. Gratis.

As a first step, my wise and prudent wife and I will build an emergency kit. Not a small step. It takes discipline and effort. Storage space must be found. Investments will be required. Supplies must be rotated.

After?

There is another kind of preparation, as well.

Foreknowledge of disaster instills a sense of fate. Like the fact of one's own death.

As a proud, lifelong Oregonian, I nurture a certain resignation. A recognition of forces greater than myself.

To quote Shakespeare's Richard II, "Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay. The worst
is Death. And Death will have his day."

When the time comes, I hope to be ready. In both senses.

(Click here to listen to a reading of Jim Shepard's "Cretan Love Song," a short story dealing with the same subject matter. The story begins at the 20:50 mark of the podcast. It's just over 5 minutes long. I hope I could have the same self-awareness and courage as the protagonist in this powerful story.)

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Wow! The times sure are a-changin', eh? When things happen this fast, I feel like I should have a look in the ol' crystal ball and see what I might see.

Having done so, I present the following two predictions, formulated well within the koo-koo crazy liberal bubble of inner southeast Portland.

Indulge me, if you will.

Prediction #1: Our society will eventually become "gun-segregated"

In an insane counter-reaction to the horrific murders that occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut in 2012, and more recently in Charleston, South Carolina, gun rights advocates in Texas and other states are actually pushing laws to make openly carrying lethal weapons the new societal norm. The "Open Carry" movement, if you will.

Fearful of some nefarious (and yet-to-materialize) plot from the federal government to seize their precious guns, "Open Carry" folks hope to preempt any attempt at reasonable gun regulations by pushing legislation expressly designed to make guns more visible and present in our culture.

It seems impossibly backward to imagine that living in a society where people strap weapons to their hips to go to church, dine out, or go shopping will be a less violent society. But some folks insist on it. And, so far at least, they have the political upper hand.

Regardless of the passion of the gun rights folks, many people aren't comfortable being around guns. As I said to a friend who is a vociferous gun rights advocate, "Most folks don't wanna sit down for Thai food at a place where half the clientele is packing heat."

But I'm not all that worried, frankly. I think this will all sort itself out.

Open Carry advocates may (and do) have the legal right to carry their weapons with them in public. But that does not give them the right to carry their weapons onto private property. When the non-gun-toting public starts avoiding businesses frequented by folks with assault rifles and pistols, I predict many businesses will quickly announce "No Guns Allowed" policies. In fact, it's already happening: at department stores, restaurants, and coffee bars, people carrying guns are politely asked to leave.In other incidents, people carrying guns have caused panic and mayhem.

Not exactly good for business, eh?

On the other hand, some businesses will specifically cater to the gun-friendly crowd. So, certain restaurants, stores, and (who knows?) maybe even bars and taverns which actively promote their tolerance for firearms will become haunts for gun fetishists.

Businesses will eventually build reputations as "gun friendly" or not, with commensurate patronage by the general public. Eventually, gun advocates will be pushed off to "open carry" enclaves, where they can admire one another's guns and imagine that they're manning the bulwarks of freedom.

And the rest of us can have a plate of pad thai in peace.

Prediction #2: Ganja! Ganja everywhere!

Now that ganja is legal as a recreational drug here in Oregon (as well as in Colorado, Washington, and Alaska), I predict that within a decade people will be openly consuming marijuana in public places.

Ganja has long been tolerated publicly. Here in Portland, certainly, and in many other cities throughout the US and Europe. But it's going to become even more prevalent.

In spite of the wording of Measure 91, which was passed by Oregon voters in last year's election, I predict that authorities will put small effort into enforcing the "no smoking in public" stipulation. For a while, they'll receive complaints from unenlightened souls, but law enforcement simply doesn't have the resources to spare in these days of austerity. People have been smoking dope more or less publicly for years. It's not going to stop.

And really, who are the benighted souls that would object to stoners passing the peace pipe in the park? Or around the campfire? Or on the beach?

And isn't it strange that smoking ganja is somehow perceived to be a threat to public safety, while carrying a loaded gun into a crowded marketplace is not?

A certain, sheltered element of our society is burdened by an irrational fear of marijuana, and for these folks the future looks frightening. But I predict that, as they become exposed to marijuana use (willingly or otherwise) they will overcome these fears. In fact, I can foresee a day when even the most uptight, suburban conservative might be heard to say: "You know, those potheads are pretty peaceful folk."

Que será, será

Prognostication inevitably makes a fool out of every practitioner. But whaddya gonna do, eh? It sure won't be the first time I've made a fool out of myself.

Friday, July 10, 2015

Junior Bush. No matter what the Iraq War did to the rest of us, for him it continues to yield lucre.

Yesterday came the revelation that the most vacuous and unenlightened man to occupy the White House in my lifetime charged $100K to speak at a charity fund-raiser for wounded war veterans.

That's right. In 2012, Junior Bush charged the Helping a Hero charity $100K for the honor of hearing his folksy, homespun adages and idiotic jokes. (Helping a Hero raises funds to build homes adapted to accommodate veterans with missing limbs or other severe injuries.)

Meredith Iler, the charity's former chairwoman gushed, "It was great because [Bush] reduced his normal fee of $250K down to $100K."

That was big of him, eh? (And what a sorry display of Battered Wife Syndrome by Ms. Iler: being grateful that your abuser held back, that he didn't abuse you quite as much as he might have.)

Former marine Eddie Wright, who lost both his hands while serving in Iraq, had a different take on it: "For [Bush] to be paid to raise money for veterans that were wounded in combat under his orders, I don't think that's right."

Although he worded it a little more temperately than I might have, I agree with Mr. Wright.

But is anyone surprised at this revelation? If you are, then you haven't been paying attention.

Remember, even while he was still "president," Junior was rubbing his palms together in anticipation of all that money he'd earn in speaking fees when he retired. Here's the quote from 2007:

"I can just envision getting in the
car, getting bored, going down to the ranch," [Bush] says. He also has
big plans for making money. "I'll give some speeches, to replenish the
ol' coffers," says Mr Bush, who is already estimated to be worth $20m.
"I don't know what my dad gets - it's more than 50-75 [thousand dollars a
speech], and "Clinton's making a lot of money".

Congratulations, Junior! Your dream is coming true!

There are many people in this country, nearly all of whom have net worths less than Junior's $20 million, who donate their time and money to help war veterans. But, for Junior, you know business is business. Can't let sentiment get in the way.

Don't get me wrong. It isn't that the man has no regrets.
He has a great many regrets that will haunt him to the end of his days.
At least, I believe he does. It's just that his regrets are not the regrets that one might expect.

I've said it before many times and this latest effrontery is just more proof.
That flaccid, hopeless little man who brought unprecedented ruin on
this country is an out-of-touch cake-eater, a thoughtless, shallow
simpleton, a sociopath.

It must be a terrible revelation for those who, at this late date, still believed in him.

Wednesday, July 01, 2015

July 1, 2015. Portland, Oregon. It has finally happened. As of 12:01 am this morning, marijuana is legal for recreational use here in the Beaver State.

It is now legal in Oregon to possess as much as 8 ounces of marijuana in one's home. It is legal to carry up to an ounce of marijuana on one's person at any time. It will soon be legal to purchase marijuana at grower-affiliated businesses. (Just as soon as the OLCC can figure a way to get its fingers in the pie). It is also legal to have up to four mature plants in your home. Smoking in public is still prohibited. (Good luck trying to hold anybody to that.)

I tell you from the heart, I thought I'd never see this day. I've been smoking dope since I was 13 years old. Marijuana is a part of my life, and always has been. Sentiments in Oregon have always been tolerant toward marijuana (don't forget, I've lived here all my life), but this common sense change is both overdue and proof positive that people in Oregon make things happen.

In the eyes of the federal government, marijuana is a Schedule I drug, equivalent to heroin. But, oddly, alcohol, which destroys far more lives than does ganja, is absent from the list. It's good to live in a state where people dismiss such an absurdity.